


A princess, a deserter, a mandalorian and a child walk into a cantina

by FettsOnTop (GTFF)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Mandalorian Culture, Multi, Mutual Pining (Din/Cara), Past Boba/Cara, Past Boba/Leia, Past Cara/Leia, RebelBounty prompt, Swearing, Uneasy Allies, post The Mandalorian S1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23667922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GTFF/pseuds/FettsOnTop
Summary: He knows the name and reputation, but until twenty minutes ago never had the misfortune of running into Boba Fett. If Cara hadn’t arrived when she did...He got lucky. This time.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Cara Dune, Boba Fett/Leia Organa, Cara Dune/Leia Organa, Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 115
Collections: RebelBounty (Boba Fett/Princess Leia) Prompts





	A princess, a deserter, a mandalorian and a child walk into a cantina

Sunlight filters in through the slits in the cantina's metal shutters, catching the particles of dust still astir among overturned tables and broken glass. The customers left in a hurry. Even the owner swiftly determined that the value of this dingy little establishment was less than the risk of getting caught between two Mandalorians in a gunfight.

Din Djarin lays his rifle down on the bar, his helmet full of his own harsh breathing. “What...what are you doing here?”

Cara Dune isn't even breathing hard. The benefit of the person who shows up late to a fight. “I just saved your ass, Mando. How about a ‘thank you’ before the questions?” 

“Thank you.”

“That’s better. You injured?"

"No." He doesn't count the bruises he'll have later. 

"Someone's subcontracting. There were eight new bounties posted this morning, all from intermediaries. I came to warn you.”

“That explains Boba Fett.” Din turns, bracing his elbow on the bar. He knows the name and reputation, but until a few minutes ago never had the misfortune of running into the bounty hunter. His reputation is not undeserved. If Cara hadn’t arrived when she did...

He got lucky. This time. 

Fett’s assortment of blasters and gauntlet weaponry are now scattered across the bar, along with his jetpack. A quick and dirty disarm before they forced the bounty hunter to put his back to one of the cantina's broad support beams and cuffed his wrists on the other side. Even now he’s testing the binders, his shoulders moving in small, subtle movements as he twists his arms. 

Din drops his hand to the butt of his blaster in a silent warning. 

“If you were going to kill me you would have done it already.”

“I can still stun you.”

“Every bounty hunter in this system is after you. You'll never make it offworld." Fett is calm. Matter-of-fact. If he's breathing hard he hides it well. "You have a chance to cut your losses."

Din’s eyes drop to the tracking fob hanging from the bounty hunter’s belt. It’s silent.

Cara is watching him. An unspoken question in her eyes. 

One of the most frustrating things about being a new parent is that he seems to be completely unable to keep track of his charge. The child has been missing since mid-morning, in spite of Din’s best efforts. 

This cantina has a soup that the child likes. That’s what brought him here. 

“Let me finish the job and I'll split the bounty with you” Fett offers. “I'll cut Dune in too."

The use of her name comes as a surprise to Din. "You know her."

“Barely." Cara is dismissive. "We did a job together on Malastare.”

“She knows me well enough to know that I keep my word. Unlike you, I don’t double-cross fellow hunters.”

Word travels fast. Especially among mercenaries. Din moves closer to Fett, debris crunching under his boots. For all of his boasts, the bounty hunter’s armor doesn’t speak to his success. It’s old and visibly damaged. Should have been reforged years ago. His signets are crudely painted on. “You just walked into this cantina and tried to kill me.”

“I didn't come after a bounty hunter, I came after a bodyguard. Different guild. And it doesn't seem like the change in careers is working out for you. Where's your client?"

“Safe from you.” Din hopes that at least that much is true. 

“Someone’s coming.” Cara crosses over to the window and peers out through the metal shutters, her shoulders tight. “Hey Mando. You’re not gonna believe this.”

He joins her. A lone woman is walking towards the cantina entrance carrying a bundle of cloth. Simple clothing, a long scarf covering her hair. Had she somehow missed the fight? Did she not see the people fleeing?

He takes another look at the bundle in her arms and his pulse stutters. He can just make out the tips of long green ears. Bright, curious eyes peek over the woman's arm and his relief nearly takes out his knees. His child is safe. 

“What the hell is _she_ doing here?” Cara mutters. 

“Who?”

“Let me handle this.” She hits the door control, letting the woman inside. 

“Cara?” She says immediately. “Cara Dune?”

The tracking fob on Fett’s belt goes off.

The woman's eyes move past Cara to the bounty hunter. “Oh, what the _kriff_.”

"Your Highness," Cara says. "This is a surprise."

"I'm Leia," she says to Din, and the name clicks with Cara's uncharacteristic formality. Leia Organa. The princess.

The child leans toward him, reaching out small hands. “Is this your family?" Leia Organa asks, and the child makes a happy noise in response. She hands the child over to Din. 

"Thank you." He glances at Cara. "You know a lot of people."

“I had a life before I met you." She nods at the other woman. "My uncle was in charge of security at her family’s summer home.”

“Cara used to ride faithers with me.” Leia Organa smiles at the memory. "No one else wanted the job."

“No one else could keep up with you.” 

“But you could. We did a lot of riding." The princess' eyes drop. "Especially that last summer." She lifts her hand to brush back the scarf covering her hair and Din catches sight of the blaster in her belt. Pretty and dangerous. That seems about right for Cara. 

"Those were good days." Cara's mouth curls into a bitter smile. "I took them for granted."

"So did I." Her gaze moves past Cara again."Boba Fett."

“Your _Highness."_ The bounty hunter's tone is mocking.

The princess crosses the room and boldly takes the tracking fob from Fett's belt. "Is this for me? How sweet. You shouldn't have."

"It's for the Mandalorian's client. If that's not you, then it's that baby."

"You took a bounty on a _baby_?"

“No one said anything about a baby.” There's an edge in Fett's voice. Anger. "I was told the target was fifty years old and dangerous."

“Both might be true.” The princess drops the tracking fob and steps on it, crushing it beneath her boot. “Your baby is force-sensitive,” she says to Din. "You know that, right?"

She says it so casually. There's a word for it. "I didn't know...what it was called."

"But you've seen what your little one can do?"

Din looks at Cara. 

"You can trust her. She's one of the good ones."

"Lift things. Heal wounds. And one time..." Cara has never held it against the child, but the memory still troubles him. "The baby tried to hurt someone. It was a misunderstanding." 

Leia steps lightly over an overturned chair and picks up a bottle from behind the bar. “I know someone who could help. His name is Luke Skywalker. He could train your child to use the force the way the way Jedi do."

"Why not just sell the kid to slavers," Fett offers flatly. "Same thing."

The princess sets down the bottle, hard enough to make an sharp "thunk." The child looks up at Din’s helmet before reaching a small hand out towards her. 

“It’s okay,” she says as if answering some silent question. Her eyes cut over to the bounty hunter. "Let's make a deal, Fett. You shut your mouth and I'll fix you a drink."

“Help yourself,” Din shifts the child to one arm and picks up his rifle. “We have to get out of here before more bounty hunters show up.”

“About that.” The princess lines up four glasses between the scattered weaponry on the bar and fills them with generous portions of some kind of clear alcohol. “The baby and I went looking for you at the docking bay first." She switches bottles and tops off the drinks with a splash of something red. "I don’t know if they’re all bounty hunters or just local hired guns, but your ship is being guarded by at least twenty of them.” 

Din looks at Cara. She picks up one of the drinks Leia made. “I’ll drink his too.” 

“This is a pretty good spot for now,” the princess continues. “The authorities are all watching the mercenaries, and the mercenaries are all at the spaceport.”

“So we'll get out of town.” Din sits on one of the bench seats along the wall and sets the child down beside him. “Set up an ambush. Make the bounty hunters come to us."

"You got enough ammunition for that?" Cara counters. "Because I don't."

Leia picks up one of the drinks and drops a straw in it. “You could take Fett’s armor. Disguise yourself. Are any of those mercenaries dumb enough to try to steal a bounty from Boba Fett?” 

“Over my dead body,” Fett growls. 

She walks up to the bounty hunter, glass in hand, and runs her fingers along the edge of his helmet. “Look, do you want a drink or not?” 

The touch immediately catches Din's attention, but she doesn't try to remove his helmet. Instead, her hand drops to the bounty hunter’s collar. She pulls at the thick fabric, examining a thin red scar on his throat. “When did that happen?”

“Last year.”

“Close call.”

Fett doesn't seem to mind the way she's touching him. He's standing a little straighter. Leaning towards her. “I’ll take that drink.” She lets go of his collar and guides the straw under the edge of his helmet.

Din looks over at Cara to see if she noticed the interaction, but her eyes are on her glass, her expression perplexed. 

“Leia? What did you put in these?”

“I didn’t look,” the princess admits. “What does it taste like?”

“I think...caf-flavored vodka and sour berry bitters.”

Leia pulls the glass away from Fett and takes a sip. “Wow. That’s disgusting." She shudders and looks up at the bounty hunter. "Why didn't you say anything?" 

"I've had worse."

Cara laughs. “Really? Because might be the worst thing I’ve ever tasted."

”Water,” Leia says, returning to the bar. “A round of water for everyone. What about the baby?”

“Is there any soup?” Din asks. The child perks up beside him. 

“I'm going to need something harder." Cara leans on the bar, watching Leia. “The only thing weirder than running into two people you've slept with on the same day is realizing that they're both having the exact same experience."

Din instinctively cups his hands over the baby’s ears. “You said you barely knew him.”

“And it was barely anything. Technically sex.”

"Wait, really?" Leia looks at Cara for a moment, then at Fett. "When?"

"After," Fett says, a one-word answer that seems to satisfy the princess.

"I never thought that would be your type," Leia says to Cara, echoing the same thought in Din's head. "But I guess considering your current companion-"

"Not the same kind of thing." She says it quickly, and Din can't read her tone. 

Leia picks up an earthenware pitcher and pours water into four new cups. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” she says. “My type seems to be people I shouldn’t get attached to.”

“Yeah.” Cara fiddles with one of Fett’s gauntlets on the bar. “So the hero smuggler guy-”

“It’s complicated. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

She hands Cara a cup of water and when Cara reaches out to take it, her fingers wrap around Leia's hand and the cup. Their eyes meet and hold. 

“Last I heard you were in some kind of elite shock trooper unit." Leia slowly pulls her hand back. “When were you discharged?”

“I didn’t really wait for the paperwork to go through.”

“Oh. I could have helped you with that.”

“I didn’t want you to know.” Cara lifts her cup in a mock toast. “You’re still in the fight.”

“I see where the soup is now,” Leia muses, ducking behind the bar. “I thought about leaving once.” A few clanking noises later she reappears with a small bowl, steam rising from the top. “I was training to do something different. I made all of the arrangements, and then I couldn’t do it.” She carries the bowl carefully over to the child. “I have a son,” she tells Din. “He’s like your child. Force-sensitive. I stayed in the fight for him.”

“ _Fierfek_ ,” Fett mutters, shifting against the beam. “Your son is training with Skywalker.”

“He’s four. One day, maybe.” The princess returns to the bar. She drops a straw in a cup of water and moves to stand in front of Fett. Her head tilts to one side. “According to some, it’s the same as selling my child into slavery.” 

"I shouldn't have said that."

"Why? You meant it." She pushes the straw under his helmet, her voice soft. “After all this time, you still think you can scare me.”

Cara leaves the bar and joins Din on the bench, the child between them. “I know a good locker facility in this sector. You could drop off Fett’s armor there and send me the code. I’ll make sure he gets it back.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Look. If you can bluff your way into the spaceport disguised as Boba Fett, it could be days before anyone figures out what happened. You could buy time. Real time.” Her hand drops to the child’s head and the baby beams up at her. “I know you don't like it, but it might be your best shot.” 

“What about you?”

“We’ll meet up again. This isn’t goodbye, Mando."

He doesn't want to leave her. It's a feeling that becomes a little harder to deal with every time they part. 

“Where are you going?” Leia asks. “Maybe I can help.”

“I don't have a destination in mind. Somewhere I can find work and keep my child safe.” He's still not sure how exactly he’s supposed to do that. He can’t even keep the little one from wandering off. 

“You know,” says Cara, pointing a finger at Leia. “You never said what brought _you_ here.”

“Because I can’t.” She lowers the cup, her eyes on Fett’s dented helmet. “I can, however, pay for a _very_ expensive armor rental."

The bounty hunter lowers his head, looking down at her through his visor. "After all this time, you still think you can buy me off."

"Maybe you should count yourself lucky that I'm trying to bribe you instead of shooting both of your knees." She gives him one last look before turning back to the bar. "You know what will happen to that child if they're caught."

It’s too quiet. Din stands and moves to the window. A sheet of flimsy blows across the vacant street. It doesn’t take him long to spot the shadow in the alley, or the antennae that wasn’t on top of that roof before. 

"Trouble?" Cara asks. 

"Yes." Din turns away from the window. “I heard stories about Clan Fett when I was young. They’re one of the oldest clans of Mandalore. Some consider them royalty.” He moves towards the bounty hunter and doesn't stop until he's close enough to touch the scarred breastplate. Not that he would. "To remove a Mandalorian's armor is to take their clan away from them. This is the way."

"Bullshit." Fett gives a rough laugh. "Do you know how many times I've had this armor stripped off me? The helmet ripped from my head? You can't take what it means." He leans towards Din, as far as the binders will allow. "And you can't stop me from hunting you down to get it back."

"What does it mean?"

Fett clearly didn't anticipate a follow-up question. There's a least a minute of strained silence before he responds. "My dad wore this armor. He was the only clan I ever had." He tilts his head. "At least I don't have to crawl around in the sewers like vermin."

According to the rules, Fett is a deserter. He has no clan. He's already been unmasked by his enemies. There would be no dishonor in taking his armor. 

He still can't do it.

It was his father's armor. A clan of two is still a clan. 

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Leia Organa says, her eyes on her commlink. "But I just got an alert that strongly suggests the authorities have us surrounded."

“For _kriff’s_ sake," Cara says, rising from the bench. "If you won't take it, I will."

“Wait.” Din touches his own breastplate. “We’ll trade. I’ll take your armor and you’ll take mine. That way you know you'll get it back."

The bounty hunter doesn’t respond immediately. “Insurance,” he finally says. Some of the tension leaves his shoulders. 

“Oh, I see why you like him now,” Leia says to Cara, not low enough to escape Din's notice. “He’s smarter than he looks.”

He keeps his focus on the bounty hunter in front of him. “Do you agree?”

“Yes.” 

"And you’ll drop the contract for the baby."

“I don’t hunt children.” There's disdain in Fett's voice. “Get your foundling to safety. Stay away from the Jedi.”

Cara steps in and releases Fett from the binders. She doesn't remove her hand from his arm. “It's good to know you’re not a complete asshole. I’d like to think I have better taste than that.”

He puts his hand over hers. Removes it from his arm and then doesn't release it right away. “I feel the same way about you, Dune.”

“There’s a safe house nearby," Leia says. "It's not much but it'll give the boys some privacy to change. We just have to get there.”

Fett picks up his jetpack off the bar. “The four of us against the local law enforcement? We'll get there."

"Without drawing the attention of the mercenaries at the spaceport?"

Cara laughs suddenly. “Look."

They all follow her gaze to where the child is now standing beside the bench. There’s a low grate, partially hidden behind it. The child points.

Cara smirks at Fett. "Weren't you just saying something about crawling around in the sewers?"

“Good job," Din says to his foundling. He might not know exactly how to protect and care for this strange little creature, but his child is not helpless. He looks at Cara, who already has a spare charge in her hand. 

"Let's go," she says. Smiling. Ready for anything. 

And he is not alone.

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a RebelBounty prompt for Ex-Lovers + Cantina + Reconciliation that got *completely* out of hand. See related works for the Alternate Smut Ending!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [that one time at the safe house](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24206050) by [FettsOnTop (GTFF)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GTFF/pseuds/FettsOnTop)




End file.
